


Bed, Bath, and Bea

by liwsecretsanta



Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:19:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22038427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liwsecretsanta/pseuds/liwsecretsanta
Summary: An LIW Secret Santa gift for Natalie!
Relationships: Beatrice Duke/Benedick Hobbes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	Bed, Bath, and Bea

“I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Ben was sitting on the bedroom floor with random pieces of wood scattered around him and an instructions booklet in front of his face.

Bea stifled laughter. “With the bed or life in general?”

Ben gave her a glare over the instructions booklet.

“With the bed,” he said when he didn’t come up with a biting response.

“Do you need help?” Bea asked for what must have been the hundredth time.

“No,” Ben snapped. “I can do this. It’s your present, you’re not going to lift a  _ finger _ .”

They had moved into their very first shared flat about a month ago, lacking in furniture, but specifically lacking a bed. For a few days, they had just been using sleeping bags and blankets laid out on the floor, which Ben thought had a fun camping vibe, and Bea said, “This reminds me of that stupid tent.”

So he had quickly bought a mattress, and plopped that on the ground in the middle of the room, which was fine, except it  _ wasn’t  _ because they were sleeping on a  _ mattress on the floor _ .

And for the most part, finally living together was amazing. Awesome. Wonderful. No fellow flatmates, no family or friends, just the two of them and their own tiny flat.

Absolutely no complaints at all.

Except at night when Bea, staring across the very close floor, muttered, “We need a bed.”

It wasn’t that they weren’t planning on getting a bed. It was just that they were busy and putting things off and now a month had passed and they still didn’t have a bed.

When Ben had asked, “What do you want for Christmas?” Bea, having already been annoyed by work that day, grumbled, “A fucking bed.”

So Ben had taken that to heart and the next day had ordered the bed for delivery the week before Christmas.

Now, it was Christmas Eve and Ben had still not managed to put the bed together. He had opened the boxes at least?

Bea rolled her eyes.

“Are you  _ sure  _ this isn’t you being like—” Bea lowered her voice. “I’m a macho man and I will build bed without help of woman.”

“You caught me,” Ben said absentmindedly, trying to interpret one particular confusing step of the instructions. “A spitting impersonation of me.”

Bea laughed.

“You’re really focused on this,” she said. “So focused you can’t argue with me.”

He moved some of the bed pieces around, trying to organize them like in the booklet. Ben had to admit, he did not have a lot of experience putting furniture together.

“You should’ve bought a less complicated bed,” Bea said.

“You said you liked this one!” he said.

“I would like any bed that is, you know, put together!”

“I’m trying.”

“Ben.” She crossed the room and kneeled down in front of him. He cowered behind the instruction booklet. “Ben…?” He continued cowering. “ _ Ben! _ ” she snapped.

“What?” he said, dropping the instructions.

“Can you forget about the bed for now?” she said, putting her hands on his cheeks. “We can finish it another day, let’s just go watch a stupid Christmas movie.”

“Forget the bed?” he said incredulously. “But it’s your present!”

“You  _ know _ this isn’t what I  _ actually  _ want for Christmas, right?”

“It’s  _ a  _ present for you!” he insisted.

(He had bought her a couple other things, currently wrapped under their two-foot tall Christmas tree.)

Bea sighed and stood up.

“Okay, fine,” she said. “I’ll just be in the other room watching TV by myself.”

He tore open a bag of screws and said, “Uh-huh.”

She sighed one more time before leaving the room.

Ben managed to get  _ some  _ of the bed together. He attached legs to the headboard, at least.

He did need help but he didn’t want Bea’s help because he didn’t want to make Bea do something he had taken responsibility for.

(If he couldn’t, you know, kill people for Bea, he could at least put together furniture.)

He thought about calling someone for advice. He could send them pictures of the instructions and they could talk him through it.

“Uuuh,” he could hear Balth saying between ukulele strums. “I don’t know, Ben, uh, maybe you should just, ya know…”

“Ben,” Peter would say, “it’s Christmas Eve, you’re seriously calling me about this now?”

“Okay,” Freddie would snap. “Ben. This is easy. Look, you’re just going to take Part A and Part B and screw them together, and then—”

Meg would laugh at him.

He could call Hero...she wouldn’t laugh at him or make him feel stupid. She might not be helpful in building a bed but she might say something inspiring…

No! He couldn’t call Hero on  _ Christmas Eve. _

(He could bother everyone else if he wanted, but not Hero.)

What  _ would  _ Hero say?

“Ben, I know you have good intentions and you’re trying to do something nice for Beatrice,” her sweet voice said in his mind, “but maybe you’re focusing on the wrong thing?”

He turned to look at the blankets and pillows laid out on the mattress.

Oooh.

A little while later, Ben was leading a reluctant Bea out of the living room with his hands over her eyes.

“Ben,” she said, “I know what a bed looks like, why are you—ow!”

“Sorry, that’s a wall! It’s not the bed I’m showing you, I have a different surprise.”

He led her to the bathroom doorway and removed his hands with a flourish.

“Ta-da!”

In the bath were their pillows, blanket, and sheets, piled together into a nest. Bea gave Ben a condescending smile.

“Seriously?”

He nodded sheepishly and sang, “Communication.”

“Well come on…” Bea said, and climbed into the bath.

Ben grinned and squeezed in next to her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.

“Gave up on the bed?” she asked.

“I thought we could stay here tonight,” he said. “For old time’s sake.”

A pause.

“We’re not sleeping in the bath.”

“No, you’re right.”

“It’s not very comfortable. At all.”

“We’ve gotten old,” he said solemnly.

“It wasn’t comfortable when we were young.”

“Anyway,” he said. “I was thinking, maybe, we could finish the bed together tomorrow or the day after.”

“That sounds fun,” Bea said softly.

“We’ll probably argue a lot.”

“Yeah, like I said, fun.”

“Basically,” he continued, “I realized that I was being stupid and hyperfocused on the bed thing because...well, it’s our first Christmas just the two of us, and…” He took a deep breath, staring at the tile wall. “Your first Christmas away from your family. And I guess I felt bad about taking you away from Hero and Leo and everyone...and I just wanted everything to be perfect. To make up for it. And set a good precedent for future Christmases.”

“You didn’t  _ take me away, _ ” she said. “I got a job and I wanted you to come with you!”

“I know!” he said. “But you know what I mean.”

She nodded, her face rubbing against his hair.”

“I shouldn’t have been so pushy about the bed in the first place,” she said.

“No, you should have, we should not be sleeping on the floor.”

“But it wasn’t just  _ your _ job to get it—”

“But I was treating it like it was my job—plus you’re so stressed with work and stuff—”

“Yeah but you’re stressed about finding a job!”

“I should’ve just let you help me,” he said.

“I shouldn’t have told you that’s what I wanted for Christmas.”

“I should’ve picked up the hint that, uh, maybe all you wanted for Christmas was to watch dumb holiday movies with me.”

She laughed. “There’s still time.”

“I’ll get my laptop—” He started trying to clumsily climb out of the bath.

“Ow—Ben—your elbow—”

“Hold on—”

They both started laughing, even though Ben’s shifting around was definitely giving them both bruises.

“I just gotta get my laptop!” Ben said.

“We’re not watching movies in the bath,” Bea said through hysterics.

“It’s what you want!”

“It is  _ not!” _

“Fuck—this  _ is  _ uncomfortable—”

“Just—” Before he could accidentally elbow her again she grabbed him around the middle and pulled him down. “We can just stay. Here. For a minute.”

“Okay.”

They let silence fall around them. The soft sound of the TV, which Bea had left on, drifted through the walls. Ben and Bea felt each other breathing.

“Commuuuunication,” Ben sang again after a moment.

“Communication!” Bea agreed with more laughter.


End file.
